Their Cherokee Rose
by moviebuffgirl
Summary: Hayden Dixon has always been there for her older brothers, Merle and Daryl. But in a world ruled by the undead, can she still keep the Dixon family intact? ON HOLD.
1. Sister, Sister

**Chapter One. Sister, Sister**

_**Two years ago...**_

"Hayden, please!" Daryl Dixon stared across the front yard at his sister, her eyes red from crying. She was clutching her favourite backpack on one hand, and the keys to her small hybrid car.

Merle had teased her to no end the moment he saw the small car – Merle always preferred loud souped-up trucks – but left her alone eventually.

"Why, Daryl? Why do you keep on defending that... that monster?" she cried, her hair whipping in the wind. "I've had it, Daryl! I can't stand being in the same house with him!"

Daryl sighed and dropped his gaze to the ground. Hayden and their dad had another row, one that escalated pretty quickly – then again, whenever their dad was involved in a fight, things always went out of hand – and ended with Hayden with a busted lip and an angry red slap mark on her cheek.

Daryl had efficiently restrained their dad as Hayden had rushed to her room and threw most of her things in her trunk, leaving only a few clothes, a picture of the three of them on Hayden's tenth birthday, her wallet, and her keys. Daryl's heart nearly stopped when she had returned to the kitchen – their dad passed out from all the vodka Daryl had been passing to him for the past half hour – and saw Hayden all ready to go.

"He's our dad, Hay," Daryl said softly. "Please, don't go."

Hayden could see the pain in Daryl's tone for she visibly softened. But a second later Daryl saw her expression harden, and she shook her head fiercely.

"I'm sorry Daryl, but ever since Mom died he's been treating us like shit. I can't do this anymore." Hayden started towards him, but thought against it. "I'll call you."

Daryl began to ask if she was going to visit Merle, who was in prison for drug possession – again, Daryl thought – but stopped himself. Of course she would, she loved her big brother fiercely, despite being eerily like their dad.

Except Merle would never hurt Hayden the way their dad normally did.

After what seemed like ages, Daryl nodded. "It's for the best, I guess. He won't have to hurt you anymore."

"Thanks Daryl."

Daryl looked up just in time to see his sister get into her car and slam the door shut. Despite the tinted windows, he could still see her tear-stained face. In spite of himself, Daryl felt a tear slide down his cheek.

_It's better this way_, he reminded himself. _Hayden deserves a better life than the one she has with me and Dad_.

* * *

_**Present Day...**_

Daryl stared at the burning pyre that held the remains of Sophia Peletier. After weeks of looking for her, he and the rest of the Atlanta survivors found her... inside the barn along with the other walkers. Needless to say, Sophia's mother, Carol, was beyond devastated.

Daryl remembered Carol telling him that what she feared the most was seeing Sophia as a walker. Unfortunately, her fears came true when Sophia stumbled out of the barn, a visible bite mark on her neck and her eyes milky white. Daryl had barely restrained her from running to her daughter, and it was Rick Grimes who ended Sophia's suffering. Daryl could see guilt and regret on Rick's face; he, after all, was the last person to see Sophia alive.

He left her alone in the forest!

Carol's previous statement echoed in Daryl's brain. In a way, he couldn't blame her. Sophia was the only person left to Carol, and to see her child killed before her very eyes...

Daryl shook his head and walked away. Carol had refused to attend the solemn funeral for her daughter, saying that her darling daughter was not the decaying corpse they had found.

Daryl let her be – he could only imagine the grief she was feeling right now.

Scratch that.

He knew _exactly_ what Carol felt; his fears that his older brother and younger sister were dead flew back to him in full force. Merle was on an excursion in downtown Atlanta when he and another of the Atlanta survivors, T-Dog, had a brawl that resulted in Merle being handcuffed to a pipe. Hayden, on the other hand, hadn't contacted him since the zombie uprising.

Daryl could vividly remember their last conversation together, where Hayden had announced that she and her banker boyfriend, Nathan, were engaged.

"_I'm so happy, Daryl," she had gushed over the phone. "I really hope you and Merle come. Have you received the invitation?"_

"_Yeah, we did," Daryl had replied. In fact, the fancy invitation was lying open on the table in front of him as they spoke. "Merle isn't too sure he's going to come, you know him."_

"_Oh." Hayden's chipper tone became somber, and Daryl could imagine her shoulders drooping. A second later though, she was back to her cheery self. "Well I hope you can come, Daryl. Nathan has heard so much about you, and he can't wait to meet you two."_

"_I'll see if I can leave early," Daryl had promised._

"_Well, I'd better get back. I love you, Daryl," she had said._

"_I love you to, Hay," Daryl had replied, a second before hanging up the phone._

Hayden. How he missed her. Daryl wished his sister were here with him; in a way, he understood why Merle liked having her around. She was a constant and soothing presence in both their lives. Unlike other people, she never scolded them for their mistakes, believing that it was all part of life. When either of them ended up in jail, she was the one who bailed them out with her own money. When their mom died, Hayden learned how to cook, clean, and take care of three grown men. In turn, he and Merle were there for her when she went to her first high school prom (Merle drove her to school and Daryl stood watch as the guys fought for the right to her first dance), for her college graduation (although she never got that advertising job she wanted in New York, she did get work at the arts and crafts store near the mechanic store where he worked), and even for her driving lessons. But most of all, they were there to protect her from their dad's drunken rages.

Even at seventy Frank Dixon still drank himself to sleep, smoked pot, and watched porn on a daily basis. And most of the time Hayden was on the receiving end of his drunken rages. The first time it happened was when Hayden was only twelve, a few weeks after their mom's death.

Merle and Daryl had found her crying inside the bathroom with purple bruises on her arms. Merle had flown into a rage and nearly killed their dad, but Hayden stopped him. She said she didn't want her big brother to go to jail because of a drunkard, and Daryl could see that Merle had to exercise all of his control not to bash their dad's head in.

"Hey Daryl, you okay?"

Daryl looked up to see Dale Horvath, another Atlanta survivor, looking at him. "Oh. Hey Dale. Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"It's sad what happened to Sophia," Dale commented, gripping his rifle tightly. "How is Carol?"

"She's... she's fine," Daryl managed. "She didn't want to see her daughter like that. She was going on about how her Sophia wasn't that creature and all that shit."

Dale nodded, as if he understood how Carol felt. "I know. Right now it must be all too much to take in."

"Yeah. Yeah, it probably is."

Dale opened his mouth to speak, but the sudden roar of an approaching truck drowned out the beginning of his sentence. He and Daryl, along with the rest of the Atlanta survivors – minus Carol – turned towards the copse of trees.

To their surprise, a familiar truck came barrelling into view. What surprised them even more was to see Merle exit the truck, his sliced hand wrapped in a thick swath of bandages.

To Daryl's shock and utter disbelief, Hayden dropped down from the passenger door, a shot gun in her right hand and a machete slung on a sheath on her hip.

Hayden's eyes scoured the scene, finally resting on his.


	2. Lending Your Brother a Hand

**Chapter Two. Lending Your Brother A Hand**

_**A few weeks ago...**_

Hayden struggled not to let panic overwhelm her. She had been with Nathan as they left their apartment in Floria, and even as she surveyed the city of Atlanta before her, she couldn't believe how they both made it across the state. The outbreak had started so suddenly, Hayden and Nathan barely had time to pack a few belongings and get into the car before the undead began swarming the streets of the city.

"Where are we going?" Hayden had shrieked, buckling herself into the passenger seat of Nathan's sleek silver sedan. Just last week he had received a promotion at work, and the car came with his new position.

"To your brothers in Atlanta!" Nathan had replied, easing the car onto the street. Hayden had heard the flapping of naked feet against pavement and had turned to see the mangled corpses of their neighbours, the Fenningtons, launch themselves at the car.

Nathan swerved and the husband and wife landed face first into the pavement. They both had heard the cracking of bone, and in the rearview mirror Hayden saw that neither was moving.

The rest of the ride was tense. Nathan, upon seeing the number of cars lining up near the highway, decided to take a shortcut. It proved to be a good idea, because when they crossed a bridge opposite the highway, they saw an entire horde of the undead make a clean sweep of the highway.

The screams of the fleeing people rose in one great cacophony, and Hayden could see men, women, and even children being pulled from the cars and torn apart by the ravenous crowds. Those who managed to escape with only a bite suddenly stilled, turned, and joined the ranks of the hungry walkers.

"I'll get us out of this," Nathan had promised, holding her sweaty hand tight. "I made a promise to your brothers that I would take care of you, and I will."

Hayden believed in him, and sure enough he had managed to get them into Georgia. It was there where they learned that there was refugee camp in Atlanta where they could stay. Hayden knew that her brothers would try to make their way there, and Nathan agreed with her.

"They're complete survivalists. If anyone can survive this thing, it's them," he had assured her.

They were nearly to Atlanta when they were separated when they camped for the night. Hayden barely remembered the events; Nathan had just shaken her awake and told her to run.

"Go Hay," he had whispered. "I'll hold them off."

Hayden, still shaking sleep from her eyes, had taken the machete and shotgun Nathan handed her – the two happened upon a small group of armed survivors that had been overrun – and dashed away from camp. It was only a few hours later, after climbing a tree to make sure no walkers sneaked up on her, that Hayden realized that she had left Nathan alone.

Now she looked out at the slowly brightening Atlanta skyline, and another tear slipped down her cheek.

_How could I have been so stupid?_ she thought. _Why didn't I stay and help him?_

But there was nothing she could do. Nathan chose to stay, and she knew if she had lingered, they might both have died.

Hayden instinctively fingered the ring on her finger and sighed. Nathan was missing, most likely dead. She couldn't let the same thing happen to her brothers.

* * *

"Just get us out of here!"

Hayden winced as some of her brother's blood dripped down on her. She was on her way to Atlanta when she noticed a form half-hidden by the tall grass and bushes. If he hadn't moved the moment she approached the roadside, she would have completely missed him.

But he did, and she was suddenly reunited with her older brother, Merle.

Or parts of him, that is.

To Hayden's surprise and horror, one of Merle's hands had been sawed off – judging from the uneven cut to the skin – but he had successfully staunched most of the bleeding by placing it on a hot exhaust pipe. Hayden had helped him to his feet and, spying a truck near an old warehouse, half-carried him into it. It was there where she helped him bandage the wound with a shirt found in the backseat.

Now she as she turned the key in the ignition, Merle eased himself into a more comfortable position on the passenger seat beside her.

"It's good to see you, Hay," he managed, grinning and holding the sharp machete. "Where's your fiancé? Nick, was it?"

"Nathan," Hayden replied, her voice catching on her throat. "He...he's gone."

"I'm sorry Hay," Merle said, and he truly meant it. He had to admit that he had done a few background checks on the guy his sister was set to marry, but he basically left the two of them alone. Of course, if he had even dared lay a hand against Hayden, Merle would only be too happy to place a bullet between the fucker's eyes.

"At least you're okay," she said after a few moments, and Merle relished in the feeling of comfort her presence gave him. "I knew you and Daryl made it."

Merle chuckled thickly and placed the machete back on the dashboard as Hayden eased the truck away from the curb. "You know it, Hay."

"Where's Daryl? Why wasn't he with you?" Hayden asked, glancing at her older brother briefly.

Merle considered not telling Hayden about the survivor camp. He wasn't in the mood to deal with those fuckers, especially the black. But his brother was back there...

"He's at the survivor camp just a few miles from here," Merle finally said. "I don't know if that damn pussy T-Dog told him about what he did to me."

"Why did they chain you to a pipe in the first place?" Hayden asked. "Merle, you know you should tone down your racist remarks a bit."

Merle scowled, but said nothing. Hayden was right, but he wasn't going to change his ways – not even for her.

"Where's the survivor camp, Merle?" Hayden asked.

"I don't want to see them folks just yet," Merle said vaguely. "Just stop somewhere off road."

Hayden wondered why her brother wasn't jumping at the chance to see Daryl again, but she didn't force it. Merle was Merle, and he had his reasons, no matter how weird or selfish they could be.

* * *

_**Present Day...**_

"Hayden," Daryl breathed, his sister's name slipping easily from his mouth. He couldn't believe she was here. Alive.

"Daryl," Hayden called, rushing towards him. Daryl's shotgun dropped from his grasp as he half-walked, half-ran towards his younger sister.

Hayden wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed.

_Daryl is alive_, she told herself. _He's alive!_

As she pulled away from his embrace, she noticed her brother seemed to have aged five years. There were circles under his eyes, and he looked bone weary. She hugged him fiercely, inhaling his familiar scent. It was then when she noticed the small group of survivors watching them curiously.

Hayden barely knew them; she only recognized the chubby Black American, T-Dog, whom Merle had gotten into a brawl with. She knew Merle would be out for blood, and she turned her head towards her oldest brother.

"Merle-"

"You sonofabitch!" Merle raged, pointing the small Glock in T-Dog's direction. "You left me to fucking die!"

Hayden winced, and she stepped in front of Merle.

"Hay, get the fuck out of the way!" Merle demanded, trying to aim his gun away from her face.

Daryl put a restraining hand on Merle's shoulder, but his older brother shook him off. "I'm going to kill you, cocksucker!"

"Hey, let's all calm down," one of the survivors, a man in a black shirt and dirty, mud-caked jeans said. Hayden pegged him as Sherriff Rick Grimes, the one who handcuffed Merle to the pipe. "Merle, there's no need to resort to violence."

"Shut up, non-com!" Merle screamed. Hayden stood her ground, looking at her oldest brother.

"Merle, not here," she said softly. "Not in front of the kid." Hayden jerked her head towards a young boy of about ten, who was standing a few feet from Rick.

Merle gripped his Glock tighter, his eyes fierce. Hayden slowly walked to him, her hand grasping his wrist and her eyes pleading.

After what seemed like ages, he lowered the gun... and raised his stump of a hand.

"Look at what you did to me, you fuckers," he hissed. "Don't you ever think for one second that this is over."

With that, Merle turned on his heel and stalked into the forest. Hayden made a move to follow him, but Daryl stopped him.

"Let him go, Hay," he told her.

Hayden shook her head. "I need to make sure he'll be okay."

Daryl held her arm for a few seconds, and then nodded. "Be careful."

She smiled sadly. "You too, Daryl."

And with that, she ran after her brother.


	3. Cherokee Rose

**Chapter Three. Cherokee Rose**

Hayden sat down beside Merle, who had taken refuge near a small stream. After nearly killing T-Dog Merle had stalked away from the group in an effort to clear his head.

This was why I didn't want to go back to them, Merle thought angrily. As Hayden placed her head on his shoulder though, he remembered why he agreed to look for them.

_You'd do anything for her_, his brain reminded him. _That's why you came here in the first place_.

"Hayden-"

"You don't have to apologize, Merle," Hayden interrupted him. "I know why, and I can't blame you. Hell, I'm damn pissed he did what he did to you. But this is a new world, Merle. We have to work together to survive, can't you see that? No matter how much you want to shoot their asses off."

Merle clamped his mouth shut. As usual Hayden wasn't criticizing him or his racist beliefs, but instead trying to make him see the positive side of life. Even when she was young, she always believed he was the best man in the world – even though the rest of society thought he was mud under their boots.

Hayden's breathing became even, and Merle found himself leaning against her. He noticed her shotgun lying on the ground beside her, and he picked it up. "How many shells you got left?"

"I don't know. About five? Why?" Hayden murmured. "You thinking of shooting down some walkers?"

"Yeah. I ain't going to see _them_ just yet. You should get back to Daryl though. It could be dangerous," Merle told her.

Hayden sat up and looked at him. "And leave you here on your own? With your wound? I don't think so."

"You ain't coming, Hay," Merle warned her, but as much as he hated to admit it, he felt a rush of relief at not having to hunt some walkers on his own.

Hayden raised her eyebrow and stood up. "Make me."

Merle chuckled and cursed softly as he heaved himself to his feet. "I swear Hay, if I didn't love you so damn much you'd be a pain in the ass."

Hayden rolled her eyes. "Come on. If you want to hunt, better to start now."

The two were about to leave when they heard a soft crunching sound behind them. Whirling around, Hayden unsheathed her machete in a fluid motion.

A woman with a tear-streaked face stood a few feet away from them, her eyes fixed on Merle's face. "You."

"Carol?" Merle said, surprised. "How-?"

"Sophia," Carol whispered, approaching Hayden, her fingers curling around a few strands of Hayden's brownish blonde hair.

Hayden stepped back. "My name's Hayden, Carol." To Merle, she whispered: "Who's Sophia?"

"Her daughter," Merle replied, his eyes taking in every inch of Carol's appearance. "Where's Ed, Carol?"

Carol shook her head slowly. "Gone. They're all gone, Merle. Sophia."

As Hayden backed further away, Carol spotted a familiar white flower on the bush near her. Carol gave a soft cry of anguish and rushed towards Hayden, who involuntarily ducked behind her older brother. Merle was about to raise his hand to protect his sister, when he saw Carol plucking the flower.

"A Cherokee Rose," Merle said, watching as tears slipped down Carol's cheeks.

"Daryl said the rose was growing for Sophia," Carol said softly. "But it wasn't. It was growing for you."

To Hayden's surprise, Carol handed the white flower to her. She gently took the flower from the older woman and managed a small smile. This vanished the moment she saw Carol's anguished expression.

Hayden automatically moved to Carol and hugged her. To Hayden's and Merle's surprised, Carol buried her face in Hayden's neck and sobbed.

Hayden looked at her brother helplessly. "Merle, I don't think I can-"

"It's fine, Hay," Merle said gruffly. The shock of seeing Carol grieve over her lost family – although Merle suspected all of Carol's tears were for Sophia – seemed to have changed Merle's mind. "We'd best get her back to the others; they might be wondering where she is."

Hayden nodded, and she kept an arm over Carol as the two women walked back where they came, Merle in the rear. When they reached the small farmland, they saw Daryl talking fast to Rick and a bald-headed man. Upon seeing Carol with them, Rick broke from the group and, followed closely by Daryl, approached the three.

"What happened?" Rick asked. Merle opened his mouth to make a tart reply, but Hayden interrupted him.

"We found her in the forest. I think she's been mourning over her daughter," Hayden said. Carol approached Daryl, who nodded once. Carol looked back at Hayden, and at the white flower clutched in the latter's hand, before walking to the house.

Rick noticed this but said nothing. "Well, we're happy you can join us, Hayden. I'm Rick Grimes, and that's Shane Walsh."

Hayden smiled. Despite Merle's previous rages over how T-Dog and Rick had left him, Hayden could tell that Rick was a kind man who only wanted to make sure he and the other survivors lived to see another day.

"Thanks Rick. Merle and I would be happy to join you; if it's okay with y'all," Hayden replied. Daryl smiled from behind Rick.

Daryl knew that once Hayden felt comfortable with the group, there wasn't anything Merle could do to counter that. Daryl – and Merle – both knew that they had a soft spot for Hayden. Not that it was difficult to like her; Hayden was the light, and he and Merle were "different shades of gray", as she liked to put it.

"Hay, I don't think it's wise to stay with them," Merle began, his fierce gaze trained on Rick.

Hayden had to give credit to Rick; the man barely flinched at her brother's deadly gaze.

"And where do you suggest we go, Merle?" she said, her tone strained. "We barely made it there on our own. Nathan and I –", Hayden paused, finding the task of saying her fiancé's name too painful for her, "nearly didn't make it here. Heck, I don't know how I survived that night in the forest. You always said there was safety in numbers, remember? That's why you and Daryl always came with me."

Daryl gave an involuntary chuckle and glanced at his older brother. The right corner of his mouth was twitching, a sign that he was about to explode. But when Hayden turned and looked at him, he nodded, albeit grudgingly.

"Fine," Merle said, his expression softening briefly when Hayden hugged him.

Rick smiled, unaware of the plethora of non-verbal messages that were being exchanged between the Dixon siblings. "Glad to have you back, Merle. Daryl, you can take Hayden inside. Lori and Hershel will give her something to eat."

Daryl nodded, and Hayden walked up to him smiling. As the two younger Dixon siblings walked towards the Greene house, Daryl glanced back at Merle. He saw Merle gesture furiously at Rick, who was standing his ground.

Daryl sighed. Some things never change.

* * *

Merle waited until Hayden was out of earshot when he rounded on Rick.

"You be glad she's here," he seethed, jabbing a finger at Rick's chest. "The only reason I agreed to stay with your sorry asses is because of her."

"Understood," Rick said evenly.

Shane merely eyed Merle warily, but deep inside the former cop wanted to bust Merle's brains out.

Merle stepped closer to Rick. "And don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with T-Dog, because that ain't gonna happen."


	4. Old Fogies

**Chapter Four. Old Fogies**

Hayden excused herself from the rest of the group and walked out into the patio. She had instantly felt welcomed, and she was glad Daryl had been spending most of the outbreak with those people.

Lori Grimes, Rick's wife, seemed a bit haunted, but she was friendly and helped Hayden settle in. Carl, the little boy Hayden saw earlier, was cheerful despite the circumstances ("I even got shot, just like my Dad," he had proudly declared over dinner). Dale, a chubby man who reminded Hayden of Santa Claus, didn't talk much. Shane and Andrea seemed off in their own worlds, although Hayden caught Shane stealing a glance or two at Lori.

Glenn and T-Dog joined the group just as Hayden finished; she made it a point to give T-Dog a small smile as they passed each other in the hallway.

Merle, Rick, Daryl, and Carol were the only ones missing from dinner, and Hayden hoped Merle and Rick weren't having a verbal smackdown somewhere.

Hayden saw Hershel Greene, the old owner of the farmhouse, sitting on the patio swing, smoke curling from his lips. He turned and saw her, and Hayden saw a hint of sadness in the man's eyes.

Hayden knew why: his wife and stepson were one of the walkers that were killed earlier that day, along with Carol's daughter, Sophia. Lori had told her the story, and Hayden's heart had gone out to both Carol and Hershel. Although she didn't see a loved one die in front of her eyes – there was still a chance, however slim, that Nathan was still alive – she could imagine the pain they were both going through.

"Hey Hershel," she greeted. "May I join you?"

Hershel nodded, taking a luxurious puff of his cigarette. "I hardly ever smoke. My kids hate it when I do," he said as she sat beside him on the swing, the boards creaking slightly under her weight. "I used to be an alcoholic, you know."

"So was my dad," Hayden said a matter-of-factly. Hayden didn't understand why she was thinking of her dad now, and she pushed any further thoughts of him from her mind. "He drank beer like it was water."

"He didn't beat you though, did he?" Hershel asked as Hayden reached for the cigarette.

Hayden didn't say anything and took a long drag of the cigarette, slowly releasing the smoke into the air.

"My God he did," Hershel murmured. "I'm sorry, Hayden."

"No biggie. He was an asshole," Hayden replied, handing the cigarette back to Hershel, who promptly extinguished it on the ashtray beside him.

"No wonder you're close to your brothers." At this point Hershel fell silent. Hayden didn't know what else to say, so she looked at the field and the dark sky before them.

Hayden closed her eyes, the distinct smell and taste of the cigarette smoke still lingering in her mouth. She wanted to cry, mourn the loss of her fiancé, but a part of her kept up the hope that he was still alive.

She remembered how eager he was to meet her brothers, how he didn't shy away from her after she told him the truth: that her two older brothers did drugs and had spent time in jail.

"They protected you from your dad, Hayden," he had said after she had told him. "It's obvious that despite their faults, they love you very much. And that's more than enough for me."

How she wished Nathan were here with her. But she was with her older brothers – both of them – and for now that would just have to do.

"So you lost your fiancé," Hershel finally said. His voice sliced through the still night air, startling her. Hayden jumped slightly, but recovered quickly.

"Yeah, we got separated. "I just hope he's alive."

"Well hold on to that hope, because in this world, it's all you have." Hershel threw her a smile which she returned.

"Don't you have any plans of leaving this place? It only holds painful memories for you," Hayden said.

Hershel nodded. "But this is the only place me and my daughters know. Once we leave, we won't fit in anywhere. I'd rather stay here where things are...familiar."

Hayden said nothing. She knew that if Hershel and his daughters stayed, they'd die sooner or later. But after what Hershel had witnessed earlier, it seemed as if the old man's spirit was broken. The only thing keeping him alive were his two remaining children, and Hayden knew that if they died, Hershel would quickly plant a bullet in his brain.

Hayden felt the same for her brothers. She had already lost Nathan, and she knew she wouldn't be able to bear it if Merle or Daryl died. They were all she had left in this world, the only things anchoring her to her sanity.

"Hay, what are you doing out here?"

Daryl's voice broke through her thoughts, and Hayden looked up to see Daryl standing near the foot of the patio steps. He shifted slightly, and Hayden made out Carol's slim form behind him.

"Nothing, just taking in some night air and a smoke," Hayden told him.

Daryl smiled at this. "I thought you swore off smoking."

"I needed something to keep my mind off everything," Hayden replied defensively. "Hi Carol."

Carol stepped into view, her eyes surprisingly clear; Hayden expected it to bear the telltale signs of crying. The older woman had lost her only daughter today, after all.

"Hi Hayden," Carol greeted hoarsely. The two women exchanged a brief yet comforting glance, and Carol walked onto the patio and into the house. Hayden heard Lori greet Carol and offer to set her a place at the dining table.

Hayden met Daryl's eyes, and she smiled.

"What?" Daryl asked. He knew his sister was reading his concern for Carol like an open book, and it made him uncomfortable. He was normally very good at masking his emotions, but Hayden also had the ability to sense when something was up with her older brothers.

"Nothing," she said, although she threw him a significant look. Daryl sighed and tried changing the subject.

"Have you seen Merle?"

Hayden shook her head, her expression quickly changing into one of worry. "I thought he was with you."

"Well I tried looking for him, but... other matters came up," Daryl said lamely.

Hayden nodded. "I hope he comes back soon. I don't like the idea of him being alone out there."

"I'll go look for him if you want," he offered.

"No, he's probably blowing off some steam. He didn't really want to see the rest of them," Hayden said in a hushed tone. "I just forced him to."

"Why?"

"Because of you."

Daryl didn't know what to say to this, so he remained silent. The two siblings were suddenly startled by Hershel, who gave a slight cough. They had forgotten that he was there, and Daryl scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"I hate it when you do that," Hayden suddenly piped up.

"Do what?"

"Scratch the back of your head. You look like a monkey," Hayden said, grinning.

"Oh yeah? Well I hate how you... how you..." For once, Daryl couldn't think of what he hated most about his sister.

Hayden raised both her eyebrows, waiting for a response.

"...how you keep sticking to me and Merle even though we're a pair of lowlife scumbags," Daryl finished.

Hayden rolled her eyes. "I stay with you two lovable guys because you're my brothers. And you're not scumbags. I'll kick the ass of anyone who dares call you and Merle scumbags."

Daryl chuckled. He missed their banter. Ever since Hayden had ran away from home, he had seen less and less of her. She drove back home a year after she had left, but she didn't bother seeing their dad. Merle had just gotten out of jail, and she brought them to their favourite diner.

It was the last time the three of them had sat down to a proper meal without their dad screaming obscenities at them. Even now, Daryl could smell the hotdogs frying on the grill and the flapjacks that Merle had ordered along with his beer.

Those times were long gone, but Daryl knew that they still had a chance to bring their family back together.

If Merle didn't mess things up, that is.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'd love to hear some feedback/questions from you guys. Right now I don't know where to bring this one (although the idea of bringing the survivors to a civilian encampment where the Dixon siblings can finally settle down as a family is persistent), but still, I'd love to hear from fellow fans of the Dixon brothers. :) **


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